


With Emeralds and Amethysts

by ClydeThistles



Series: It Takes Three (Tissaia/Margarita/Yennefer) [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Caring Rita, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/F/F, Tissaia needs to relax, dom Yennefer, some feelings though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClydeThistles/pseuds/ClydeThistles
Summary: Sequel to 'Threads of Black and Gold'. Yennefer and Rita help Tissaia release some tension.
Relationships: Margarita Laux-Antille/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg/Tissaia de Vries
Series: It Takes Three (Tissaia/Margarita/Yennefer) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900702
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	With Emeralds and Amethysts

When Rita pulls her gently by the hand to stand in front of the fire, Tissaia can’t help smiling at the reversal of roles. Granted she never literally took their hands, but she has been steering these two for decades. And despite her earlier outburst, she is rather pleased with how they have turned out. Tissaia harbours the hope that it will be Rita whom she passes her pendant on to. The blonde mage has a passion for learning, and the right temperament to be a mentor and teacher. Yennefer would also make a powerful mentor, she inspires awe and adoration, but she is still too chaotic. Perhaps in another century or so she will have mellowed. Rita chastises gently,

“Stop it, I can hear your mind turning. You’re thinking too much.”

Yennefer joins them but stands a little apart, “Maybe she needs something else to think about?”

And with a wicked smirk, her eyes flashing, she waves her hand and is suddenly wearing nothing but some silky underwear and black stockings, her breasts unbound and standing proud from her ribcage, mocha nipples tightening in the air. Tissaia swallows and runs her eyes appreciatively over Giltine’s artistry. Rita is stood behind Tissaia and slides her arms round her waist, hooking her chin over her shoulder. She purrs,

“Do you like seeing Yennefer like this? Shall we watch her?”

Yennefer cottons on and slowly circles on the spot, swaying her hips, running her own hands over her body. And as Tissaia watches, trying not to groan aloud at the delectable sight, Rita presses herself firmly against her back, caressing round her waist with miniscule movements of her fingers. Hardly more than a feather brushing through the thick fabric and stiff bones of her gown and corset but Tissaia can still feel it. Because Rita, wicked girl that she is, is letting little flickers of Chaos escape from her fingertips as she touches her and they are interacting with Tissaia’s own Chaos, tingling and sparking. Tissaia frowns a little at the frivolous use of energy, at the manipulation of her own magic, but Rita hums in her ear,

“Remember, no control, no boundaries. Stop being Arch-Mistress Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza, for tonight at least.”

Tissaia arches an eyebrow but her voice is breathy and warm when she speaks, no trace of ice left, “Then whom do you suggest I be?”

Rita chuckles softly and replies, “How about ‘darling’?”

Yennefer scoffs, “Rubbish! She wants us in control? Then that’s what she’ll get, isn’t that right _pet_?”

Tissaia bristles for a moment but goes all soft-boned when Yennefer crosses to her and holds her chin none-too-gently, haughty and beautiful looking down at Tissaia,

“Because you want to be good for me, to do as you’re told, don’t you pet?”

The dark velvet in her voice makes Tissaia’s throat go dry and, possessed by whatever madness has gripped her tonight, she licks her lips and breathes,

“Yes…mistress.”

Yennefer’s eyes widen momentarily before she regains control of herself and resumes the façade of cool dominance, “Good. Then turn around and let Rita kiss you. But first, take off that damn pendant and collar.”

Rita’s fingers caress up from Tissaia’s waist and lift the heavy chain from round her neck, Tissaia already breathing easier without it weighing her down. The collar is attached to the dress however and Yennefer prepares to magic it away, but Rita stops her,

“No, Yenna. Do it slowly, one button at a time, watch her come undone piece by piece.”

She and Tissaia both watch as Yennefer reaches out and undoes the clasp fastening at Tissaia’s throat. And then a single button. And another. And another. Each one makes Tissaia’s breath hitch and her chest is heaving by the time her bodice is open enough for Rita to slip a hand in to skim across the top of her corset, fingers ghosting across the tops of Tissaia’s cleavage and over her décolletage. Rita purrs,

“Turn around and let me kiss you, darling.”

Tissaia does, even though common sense is screaming it is a bad idea to leave her back exposed to Yennefer. Rita cups her face and presses a soft tender kiss to her lips whilst Yennefer swoops in and pulls her bodice from her shoulders, kisses up her neck hungrily, nipping as she goes. It is a delicious contrast of sensations as stark as the light and dark of their hair. Tissaia lets her hands come up to rest on Rita’s wide curvy hips, sighing into the blonde’s mouth as she curls her tongue round Tissaia’s upper lip then licks further in, sliding against Tissaia’s tongue in long, smooth strokes. Yennefer pauses her assault of nipping teeth against Tissaia’s neck to work strong fingers into her shoulders, rolling the muscles until they loosen. She is not rough, but she is firm, insistent and Tissaia feels the stubborn knots yielding to her touch. When Yennefer is satisfied the muscles below her hands are pliant and supple, she returns her mouth to Tissaia’s neck, sucking hard enough to bruise then laving her tongue over the mark to sooth it. She starts to unlace Tissaia’s corset with deft, decisive pulls, growling as she does,

“Let her see you, Rita. Trust me pet, it’s not a sight you’ll ever forget.”

Rita smiles and lowers her head so she can look up at Tissaia through her eyelashes, biting her lower lip as she reaches for the shoulder straps of her gown. They slide off with no resistance and Tissaia decides they must be held in place by magic if the slightest touch can make them glide down Rita’s pale bare arms. And then Tissaia thinks nothing at all because her mind can no longer process anything other than the glorious form in front of her. Rita is pale, almost as pale as Tissaia, but with freckles and smaller breasts. Not that they are insubstantial, only not quite as full and heavy as Tissaia’s which are usually contained by her stiff and buttoned-up gowns. And Rita’s are perfect spheres, her entire torso is one perfection, the delicate collarbones and elegant column of her neck, the neat slope of her belly and the broad curves of her hips. Yennefer is undoubtedly beautiful with her caramel skin and flat, taught stomach, her small pointed breasts. But Rita could have been sculpted by gods. The blonde smiles,

“Would you like to touch me?”

She lifts Tissaia’s hand and guides it to her breast, urging her to palm and fondle it, releasing a little moan, her eyes fluttering when Tissaia presses harder. Yennefer has finally loosened Tissaia’s corset sufficiently to reach round and unclip it, pulling it from her and discarding it. For a moment, Tissaia wavers. She knows her body is not unpleasant, particularly considering her age, but she cannot compare with the two younger women. Any such doubts fade however when Yennefer comes round to join Rita in front of her and they both stare in awe. Without quite deciding it is a wise decision but doing it anyway, Tissaia unfastens her skirt at the back and lets it fall to the floor. Hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear and glides that down her legs too. In one smooth move both Rita and Yennefer have knelt at her feet. They unlace a boot each and remove them, Tissaia leaning on their shoulders to keep her balance. They each roll a stocking down from her thigh to off her feet and then gaze up at her adoringly. Shedding what remains of their own clothes they kiss their way up Tissaia’s body, one at either side. Rita comes up behind her again and slips her arms round her, hands sliding up to cup her breasts making Tissaia’s head fall back against her shoulder. Rita takes advantage of this to kiss her again, wet and messily given the awkward angle but Tissaia no longer cares about tidiness. As Rita rolls her nipples and kisses her, Tissaia feels Yennefer kneel and tease her hands up the outside of her thighs. She skims round and grabs Tissaia’s bottom, kneading the hot flesh firmly and smirking when it makes the older woman buck her hips forward.

“So eager, I’m not sure you’ve earnt my mouth between your legs yet. Rita might be just _giving_ you everything your heart desires but _I’m_ going to make you work for it, pet.”

Yennefer lightly smacks her bottom, “Spread your legs.” Tissaia moves them shoulder-width apart but Yennefer smacks harder, “Further.” Tissaia obeys but still not enough for Yennefer who widens her stance until Tissaia can barely stand upright. Rita’s arms round her hold her up a little and one of Tissaia’s hands come over her shoulder to bury in the golden waves at the back of Rita’s head bracing herself there. When Yennefer spreads her folds with a hand and uses the thumb and forefinger of the other to flick against her clit, Tissaia has to pull away from Rita’s mouth to gasp. Yennefer smirks and repeats the action, Tissaia squirming with the mix of pain and pleasure. Rita murmurs soothingly,

“Hush, darling. We said we’ll take care of you and we will. Yenna knows what she’s doing, you let her do it.”

Tissaia nods and Yennefer flicks again, harder but rubbing it once or twice afterwards to ease the sting. Every time Tissaia withstands a flick, Rita praises her, fondling her breasts and kissing her neck,

“You’re doing so well, darling. Mmh, you feel so good in my hands, look so good with your legs spread. So beautiful.”

Just when Tissaia thinks she might break and sob with the frustrated pleasure of it all, Yennefer leans in and licks up her folds. Her legs buckle and Rita takes pity on her. She lowers them to sit on the floor, an armchair at her back and leans against it, tilting Tissaia back against her chest, still cradling her in her arms and teasing her breasts. Yennefer places a cushion under Tissaia’s hips and spreads her thighs then settles herself between them and begins to lick in earnest, hot tongue swirling through the wet folds and soft curls. Tissaia moans and frantically pulls Rita back down to kiss her, a hand in her hair. Her other hand grips Yennefer’s hair and tugs, urging her between her legs. And she can’t help thinking she was right about the two of them. Rita is like the forest, the earth with her green eyes and gold hair, her tender nurturing and warmth, making love to Tissaia. And Yennefer is the storm, the sea, black hair and violet eyes, her raw power and untamed passion, fucking Tissaia. Yennefer lifts her mouth to nip at Tissaia’s inner thighs, marking her, and slides two fingers inside her, curling up and hooking against her, thrusting mercilessly. And Rita slides a hand down from a breast to slowly stroke and circle her clit. Tissaia trembles and gasps, her breath hot against Rita’s mouth, bucking her hips into Yennefer’s hands which grip her hard enough to bruise.

“Such a good pet, so wet and willing. Do you want to come?”

Tissaia nods but Yennefer bites down hard on her thigh making Tissaia cry out,

“I asked you a question pet.”

“Yes, mistress. Please.”

Yennefer slides another finger in and slows her thrusting to eke Tissaia’s pleasure out, “You may come when Rita asks you to, but not before. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Yennefer returns her mouth to Tissaia’s thighs and licks gently over the bruises from earlier. Her thrusts stay slow and languid and Tissaia whines in desperation as she is kept teetering on the edge rather than being finished off. Rita smooths the crease between her eyebrows with a forefinger,

“It’s alright, darling. Just relax and kiss me again.”

When Rita wraps her lips around her tongue and starts to suck, Tissaia sees stars behind her closed eyelids. Rita returns her fingers to Tissaia’s clit, rubbing and stroking, gradually speeding up until Tissaia has to plead,

“Stop! I’m so close, I’ll finish if you keep doing that.”

Yennefer growls, “Not until you’re allowed to.”

Tissaia whimpers, “Rita, please. Say I can.”

Rita purrs, “Tell us who we are first.”

Tissaia looks baffled for a moment, then comprehension dawns on her face and she wrestles internally but at last relents, “You’re my girls. My beautiful, clever, powerful girls.”

Yennefer grins against her thigh, looking up at her fondly, “You forgot foolish.” Then her fingers do a long, slow thrust deep inside Tissaia and she whispers to her, “I am yours, you are mine.”

Rita presses firmly on Tissaia clit in time with Yennefer’s thrust and echoes to Tissaia, “I am yours, you are mine.”

Tissaia sobs whether from frustrated pleasure, intense joy or simple release from the burden of control, she cannot say and perhaps it is all three. Rita speeds up her ministrations again and Yennefer mirrors her, Tissaia stretched taut as a fiddle between them until at last, Rita invites,

“Come for us, Tissaia. Let it all go.”

With a wail and her back arching up off the floor, her head snapping back against Rita’s shoulder and her thighs clamping round Yennefer’s head, Tissaia de Vries surrenders control of herself. Chaos shoots out from her ecstatic body, the fire roaring and windowpanes rattling, Rita and Yennefer goosepimpled and breathless at the power radiating from her. As they work Tissaia through the aftershocks, blue eyes locked with green and violet, her hands still entwined in black and gold, Tissaia can’t help thinking that the two of them together is everything she needed.


End file.
